Bruised Hearts
by elitalia
Summary: Six months after the curse was broken, Emma came to Regina with an outrageous request: "Take my heart!".
1. Chapter 1

**BRUISED HEARTS**

**CHAPTER 1**

Regina was in the kitchen, her hands under the hot running water. With quick movements she washed away the last drops of cider and the mark of her lipstick from the glass that had stayed with her during the last few hours.

Regina had spent her evening on the couch with Henry, watching two episodes of his latest favorite show and, during commercial breaks, listening to his excited recount of his sword lesson with David.

Six months after the curse was broken, mother and son were rebuilding their relationship on stronger and more honest foundations. Since Regina had expressed and showed her desire to change, to redeem herself, to not use magic to hurt others, to not treat him as a possession, Henry had been standing proudly on her side. In the spoken words of regrets and in his strong and frequent hugs, he was showing to his mother his desire to forgive her and to stop seeing her as the cruel Evil Queen of his stories.

Regina was working hard to leave her Enchanted Forest's persona behind, to not let the wary and unforgiving looks of some of the residents of Storybrooke get to her, to not succumb to the dark magic that was running again in her veins and to the power that came with it. She was focusing on Henry, on her love for him and on her desire to be the mother he deserved.

And so the quiet evenings spent with her son became Regina's primary source of serenity. Having Henry talking to her, smiling at her and enjoying their time together, after months of accusations and hateful looks, was giving Regina happiness again. Those evenings warmed her heart, like the glass of cider she allowed herself each time after Henry went to bed warmed her body.

Glass cleaned, Regina closed the faucet, dried her hands, and looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was already eleven thirty and Regina was ready to end her day.

She was making her way upstairs when someone knocked loudly on the front door. At that time of the night she knew it could only be Emma Swan.

Regina turned around, climbed down the stairs and slowly walked to the door as another series of knocks echoed in the foyer.

In the past few months opening her door for Emma had become a habit. Picking up Henry and dropping him off, their biweekly magic lessons, the casual dinners all together: almost every day there was something that brought Emma to stand on her porch. And so Regina had become familiar with the way Emma rang her doorbell – always two rapid rings – and the way her own lips curled into a small smile every time she made her way to welcome Emma into her home.

This time was no exception. But along with the spontaneous curl of her lips there were also a strange thrill going through her body and a heartbeat becoming quicker every step she took. They were the result of the last time Emma had knocked on her door past Henry's bedtime.

"_Miss Swan, it's late. What do you want?" _

"_You're so fucking impossible…_"

Those were the words that Emma had replied to her three weeks before. Emma had been drunk and angry, and before Regina could ask her to leave and call it a night, the sheriff had taken her face in her hands and kissed her hard.

The kiss had been rough, imperfect, whisky-flavored. But if it hadn't been for the shock which stunned her into stillness, or for Emma who quickly – too quickly – stepped back breaking the kiss, Regina would have tangled her hand in the woman's hair, pressed her more firmly against her body and kissed her back until her lips hurt.

The kiss had been long coming, Regina thought. Desire had always sparked between them; a weird sexual energy had always tinted their interactions. In the past few months – as they worked together as Henry's moms, as magic users and protectors of the town – trust, understanding, gratitude and playfulness had also become elements of their tentative friendship, strengthening their draw for each other and building genuine affection between them.

In the rapid touch of their lips, Regina had realized that Emma – with all her goodness and compassion – was the person for whom she might dare to love again. In the way her heart had exploded in her chest, Regina had realized that Emma – the daughter of her enemy, the breaker of her curse, the mother of her son – might be her chance at a happy ending.

But Emma hadn't shared her epiphany. Without any words, without another look, she had stumbled away, and Regina had been too stunned to try to stop her.

Later that night, her lips still tingling, Regina had vowed to herself and to her bruised heart that she would be cautious: Emma Swan had now the power to either be what she needed the most or be the final crack set to fully shatter her.

Preventing Emma from knowing she had that power felt like a necessity and buying time to come to terms with the new realizations was imperative. And so, without thinking it twice, Regina had used her magic to erase Emma's visit to her house from the woman's memories, sparing herself a morning-after conversation undoubtedly destined to be an awkward and false denial of feelings or a terrifying admission of them.

But if Emma couldn't remember the kiss, Regina did. In fact, she relived it at least once a day. Before falling asleep, the memory of their kiss mixed with fantasies of a happy life together; during the time spent with Emma, it prompted her teasing and her flirty remarks, made to test if Emma would kiss her even without alcohol in her body; but mostly it fueled her desire to become a better person, someone who could give Emma all she needed, someone who was worthy of the Savior's love.

At times, the memory of their kiss also inflamed her body. And in that moment, with Emma showing up so late like three weeks before, Regina was burning. More than ever, her lips longed for Emma's. More than ever, her hands craved to touch Emma's body. More than ever, her heart asked for Emma's to beat with hers.

Regina tried to swallow her desire, took a deep calming breath and opened the door. As expected, Storybrooke's sheriff was standing in front of her. Emma's posture suggested sobriety and tension, fatigue and purpose. The porch light illuminated her face, revealing a grim expression that made Regina's smile and desire quickly vanish.

"Miss Swan, is everything alright?" Regina asked in a worried whisper.

Emma didn't offer any answer, she simply pushed past her and entered the mansion.

Regina quickly closed the door and followed with her eyes as Emma moved to the staircase, looked briefly upstairs and turned expectantly towards her. The fast and edgy movements alarmed Regina even more.

Slowly she approached her guest and asked again, "Emma, what's wrong?"

Once again, Emma stayed silent; she only moved closer to Regina and took the woman's right hand in hers.

Regina shivered as cold fingers touched her skin and looked with confusion as Emma brought their hands on her chest. Under the cheap fabric of Emma's shirt, under her own palm, Emma's heart was beating fast and strong. Regina could feel the pure and rich magic – the magic she had come to know in the last months as she taught Emma how to connect with it, the magic she wondered at for the way it connected with her own – flowing inside it.

Emma's heartbeat, Emma's magic, Emma's perfume made Regina feel warm and lightheaded. Unconsciously, she moved closer to Emma, until their thighs were touching and their breaths caressed the other's skin. Regina let herself be lost and anchored in the intimacy of the moment.

When she lifted her gaze from their hands and met Emma's eyes, the sheriff finally spoke, "Take my heart, Regina."

Ice.

Regina felt like ice was suddenly coursing through her veins.

And then lava.

Regina felt like hot scorching lava was running through her whole body.

Fresh in her blood, her rage burnt like desire had moments ago.

Regina's magic reacted immediately and in a blink of an eye Emma was flying across the foyer, while a ball of fire appeared in Regina's hand. Facing the door, she was ready to defend herself; she was ready for Snow, David and the Blue Fairy to burst into her home and reveal themselves as the masterminds behind the farce.

Regina couldn't believe it. She had thought that Emma really trusted her. Emma knew she had no intention of ever using her magic for that purpose again, Emma knew that she was trying to be a different person than the Evil Queen who rips hearts out; and yet, Emma dared to make such an outrageous request to test her real ability to change.

Regina could imagine the townspeople forming the plan, "Let's see if The Evil Queen is truly on the way of redemption by offering her the Savior's heart!", and worst, she could imagine Emma agreeing to that.

Regina felt angry, but mostly betrayed.

When after a few long minutes the Charmings didn't announce themselves, Regina assumed that Emma had at least had the decency to face her alone. Quite certainly an enchantment would have kept her from taking the sheriff's heart.

When Emma walked towards her, holding her shoulder and grimacing with pain, Regina ordered in an emotionless voice, "I want you out of my house. Now."

But Emma didn't move, instead she looked at Regina with defeat in her eyes, and spoke again, "Take my heart, Regina, and I'll go…please."

That final word and the way Emma's voice broke around it stopped Regina from attacking the woman again. With horror, she realized that Emma's request was not part of a scheme to prove her unchanged; it was genuine.

"Emma…"

The sheriff's name escaped her lips in a soft murmur, and all of Regina's confusion, shock and disbelief found expression in the two syllables.

"Please…"

Emma's desperate plea sounded like the cry for help of a drowning woman. And looking into Emma's tearful eyes Regina could see the overwhelming emotions in which Emma was sinking.

Regina had always been aware of Emma's palpable uneasiness with the reality of fairytales, with the strangeness that the life in Storybrooke entailed, and with the burdens that came with her role as Savior; she was conscious of Emma's reluctance to let herself be loved even by the people she'd always dreamt to meet; but Regina had not realized how _oppressed_ Emma felt by the novelties of her life.

Was it so painfully noticeable now because something had happened and brought it out in the open, cut Emma so deeply that she decided to stop feeling?

One thing was certain: Regina had no intention of taking Emma's heart. She wasn't going to leave Henry's other mother without a heart to love him, and she wasn't going to turn the only person who really understood her into an emotionless being.

Emma was a drowning woman, but she was asking for the ocean to evaporate and not for a life jacket to keep herself afloat. Emma needed to be strong, to cope with her emotions and make the needed changes to find her peace, no shortcut allowed.

"This is not the solution to your problems, Emma. And even if it were, I wouldn't take your heart. It's not right."

Her refusal prompted an instant change in Emma: the sheriff straightened her stand, moved her hand from her injured shoulder and looked at Regina with anger and resentment.

"Since when do you have a problem taking a heart?" She spat out. "Has The Evil Queen suddenly acquired a conscience? Only…what? a_ year_? after you crushed Graham's heart without any mercy?"

Regina could empathize with a desperate soul; she could understand better than anyone else how the inner turmoil of the soul could bring a person to lash out at the others, but she had no intention of allowing Emma to be disrespectful and deliberately hurtful. They were past angry accusations.

Regina gritted her teeth in displeasure when Emma stopped her hand just before it made contact with Emma's cheek. She then grimaced in pain when Emma tightened her grip around her wrist and brought her hand back to her own chest. Minutes before, feeling Emma's heart beating strong under her fingers had felt intimate and heavy, now it felt hollow and wrong.

"I'm asking you to do it, just fucking do it," Emma ordered, her voice loud enough to possibly wake Henry.

The sheriff was clearly getting angrier and more frustrated by the minute and Regina – unsure to be able to handle her – decided to put an end to Emma's visit.

"I hope you'll see reason in the morning," she said and with a subdued flick of her free hand, teleported Emma at the end of her street, where she knew Emma's Bug was parked.

When she finally heard the car leave, Regina allowed herself to breathe. She then climbed the stairs and quietly entered Henry's room.

Relieved that her son was still sleeping, ignorant of his mothers' confrontation, Regina went back downstairs and into the kitchen. She took the glass she had rinsed before Emma had knocked, and filled it with whisky. The bottle of hard liquor – always kept hidden behind two big cans of tomatoes – was now almost empty, and Regina made a mental note to buy another one next time she went shopping.

Leaning against the counter, she gulped down her drink, hoping for an immediate effect on her body.

She felt exhausted, consumed by the many different emotions lived in the last minutes. She also felt the forming of that same headache that had been her companion for such a long time when Emma had first came to town with her challenging and annoying attitude. Mostly, she felt concern and sorrow for Emma.

Even in her darkest times Regina had never thought about ripping her heart off. When Daniel died, she had needed her anger and desperation, her hope in dark magic and her thirst for revenge to wanting to live; when she married the King, she'd needed her longing for freedom to finally achieve it; when Snow got her happy ending, she'd needed her desire to destroy it to find her own through the curse. Her heart – her quickly darkening heart – had provided all that; taking it off her chest would have meant resigning herself to the circumstances, forgetting what happiness could be like, preventing herself to feel the warmth that remembering Daniel brought to her chest.

Her emotions had guided (and misguided) her through life, they had been anchors to hang on to. But Regina knew that for Emma it was the exact opposite: a cool detachment from people and a self-imposed numbness to emotions were her allies, and evidently they were very much missed.

Being in Storybrooke surrounded by people she loved and who loved her had clearly destroyed the walls around Emma's heart with no possibility to rebuild them, and had opened the gate to so many feelings and fears that Emma had always worked hard to keep away. Now, Emma felt like she couldn't breathe.

Should she consider giving Emma what she wanted if it meant giving her peace?

She couldn't and even the fact the she found herself wondering that made Regina feel ashamed of herself. It was time to go to sleep and stop thinking about Emma's outrageous request.

After drinking another glass of whisky, Regina left the kitchen and went up to her bedroom.

That night Regina fell asleep looking at the jewelry box on her nightstand. It was one of the many wooden boxes which had contained pulsating hearts until the curse was broken and she had used her magic to find their right owners to give them back to. It was a reminder that the Evil Queen was gone and that now she was a different person. It was a reassuring testament that people could change and learn to embrace new things.

Emma could too.

* * *

A/N: The idea for this fic has tormented me for so long. Now I'm finally writing and sharing it. I really hope you enjoyed this first part.

Chapter 2 may take a while, please be patient!

I apologize for any mistakes. Blame my Italian blood for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**BRUISED HEARTS**

**CHAPTER 2**

Regina was holding Emma's heart. It was warm and strong and pure. It was the kindest heart she had ever held and it made her feel deeply ashamed of her own. Regina felt like she was corrupting its essence just by touching it; she was almost expecting to see her darkness seep into it and dim its bright glow.

"Thank you, Regina."

Regina had been so mesmerized by Emma's heart that the sound of her voice startled her. Slowly, she raised her eyes to the woman standing in front of her: a content expression painting her face, Emma looked relieved, like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you," the sheriff repeated, and then brought her hands around hers.

Regina felt suddenly overwhelmed. Emma's heart was beating stronger in their joined grip, Emma's eyes were so soft and her hands so gentle. What unsettled her the most was the surge of emotions flooding her body: intense, chaotic and oppressive. Among the confused mix, Regina could only recognize a deep sense of gratitude. She knew it could only come from Emma: holding her heart, Regina was feeling what Emma couldn't feel anymore.

It was too much.

She was about to take a step back and leave Emma to hold her own heart when the sheriff started to squeeze. With horror, Regina felt her fingers sink into the organ and waves of pain shooting through her chest.

"Stop it!" She screamed as she futilely tried to push back against Emma's hands, as she futilely tried to struggle away from Emma, who seemed completely unaffected by the abuse of her heart.

As the pain increased and her energy started to give away, Regina pleaded Emma again.

A second later Emma's heart was crushed.

-0-

Regina woke with a start, breathless and with the feeling of dust still running through her fingers.

The bluish light coming through the windows brought her back to the reality of her bedroom. What she had dreamt was hard to shake, though. The brightness of Emma's heart, the relief in Emma's eyes, the ache through her chest, the horror for Emma's actions felt all too real and disturbing.

Even the fact that squeezing Emma's heart had brought pain to herself – even if it wasn't possible because magic didn't work like _that_ – felt real. After all, nowadays, Regina was painfully aware that hurting Emma meant also hurting herself.

It wasn't until her mind had analyzed every little detail of her dream and her heart had stopped beating furiously in her chest that Regina realized what had prompted her dream: Emma coming to her the night before and asking her to take her heart.

As she remembered the desperate way Emma had pleaded her and the raw anger Emma had displayed, Regina felt fear and worry. Gone was the sense of reassurance she'd felt last night before closing her eyes, Regina was now scared that Emma could have done something stupid after leaving Mifflin Street. Above all, she was worried that Emma might have decided to leave Storybrooke – the source of all her sorrows and troubles – behind, and never come back.

Once formed into her mind, Regina couldn't shake the thought that Emma might have gone.

She looked at her alarm clock: five and thirty-eight were the red numbers glaring at her. Uncaring of the earliness, Regina decided to call Emma. She took her phone, placed on her nightstand, and selected the sheriff's number.

Holding her breath, Regina let the phone ring until a voice came through. It wasn't Emma's. It was the cold irritating one of the answering machine.

It didn't mean anything. Emma was known for her deep sleep and for not being a morning person, and expecting her to answer a phone call before six was simply foolish. Still, Regina had needed to know that the sheriff was okay and in Storybrooke, and that her visit had just been a moment of irrational despair, isolated in time and free of consequences.

Feeling more distressed than before and unable to stay put, Regina got out of bed and started pacing her room. She quickly went through the possible spells she could use to know if Emma was in town, but each enchantment that came to her mind entailed blood or a precious material possession of the person looked for.

Regina had never missed Sidney's service as her mirror more than in that moment. Asking for a glimpse of Emma would have been enough to have an image of the woman forming on the surface and calm her growing concern.

A simple solution then came to her mind: teleporting at the Charmings'. Hopefully, she would find herself directly in Emma's room, avoiding the possibility of waking Snow or David, and Emma sleeping in there.

She quickly dressed herself and teleported at the apartment. As the smoke of the spell disappeared, Regina was enveloped by Emma's perfume and by the soft orange light of a bedside lamp. Immediately, she looked towards the bed and found something unexpected: a sleeping Snow, lounged uncomfortably over the covers and still dressed with her day clothes.

By the look of it, Snow had fallen asleep while waiting up for Emma. It was clear then that mother and daughter had argued the night before and while Emma had come to her with the need to stop feeling, Snow had waited in Emma's room for a chance to talk to her.

Regina couldn't imagine what the discussion had been about or what Snow – or David perhaps – had said to upset Emma so much, but she felt like she should've known that Emma's parents were the cause of her torment: the sheriff was always so sensitive when it came to them; they had the ability to turn her into a small insecure girl, painfully exposed to hurting and afraid of letting people down.

The sudden desire to shake Snow awake and demand an explanation was all the warning Regina needed to leave the apartment.

She quickly decided to teleport at the sheriff's station: if Emma had opted to stay clear of her parents then the station was the place where Emma had probably decided to crash. A few seconds later she was there, but the woman wasn't sleeping on the hard and thin mattress of either of the cells nor in any other rooms.

Her last glimmer of hope pushed her to check the weak possibility that Emma's Bug could be parked in front of the station and so Regina walked out of it.

The car was nowhere in sight and all her hope miserly died.

Emma was outside of Storybrooke, Regina was now sure.

-0-

Regina walked home, hair messed by the morning wind and mind by thoughts of Emma.

When she opened the door to her house, more than hour had passed since her terrible awakening. Soon Henry would be up and so she went into the kitchen, put on her apron and started making pancakes from scratch.

Breakfast was a short and quiet affair. Regina, preoccupied with considering what she could do next, forced down only a few bites of pancake, while Henry gulped down everything on his plate and more, fueled by his excitement over the presentation of his latest school project. Soon he was out of the door to meet Grace, his science partner, and current crush as the way his cheeks reddened at every mention of her clearly suggested.

Regina tied up the kitchen and then made a few calls to Emma. The empty ringing and the annoying voicemail started to sound like mocking laughter. The growing heaviness in her heart, instead, felt like a bitter reminder of what caring for Emma really meant.

Her mind couldn't stop from wondering if letting herself fall for Emma – a woman so wonderful yet so easily overwhelmed by her own feelings and resorting to running when things got hard – was a mistake she should prevent.

Because even if she did allow herself to fully love Emma, would Emma be able to do the same and be with her without holding back or ever feeling suffocating? Should she be so arrogant and foolish to think that Emma could let herself love and be loved by a reformed Evil Queen? Should she risk her own heart for someone who hours before had asked her to rip off her own?

A sudden need for a strong drink made itself known; Regina pushed it away like any further thought about love and Emma as overlapping realities.

Right now she only needed to find the woman and bring her – willing or not – back to Storybrooke.

A few moments later she was in her studio, retrieving a thick file about Emma from one of the drawers of her desk. She had acquired it when Emma had declared her intention to run for sheriff and most of the information had been published on the Daily Mirror, in a time when destroying Emma had been her only purpose.

Sometimes, Regina missed those days and the simple relationship she had with Emma back then with all her being.

Before she could find the page where Emma's Boston address was recorded – at this point Regina was sure that after getting into her car Emma had driven straight to the city without looking back –, someone rang the doorbell.

Regina went to open the door and was surprised to come to face with Miss Lucas, who certainly wasn't one of her usual guests. It wasn't hard to imagine the reason behind her visit: finally Snow had realized her daughter had gone missing and asked her loyal werewolf friend to find her.

And so Regina was _not_ surprised when the first words out of Ruby's mouth were, "Is Emma here?", or by the accusation behind them.

"She is not," Regina easily replied and felt irritation grow when Ruby moved her head to glance inside her house.

"I assure you, Miss Lucas, that she is not here," she repeated less cordially than before.

"Okay, then tell me why I can smell her as if she's inside or been here very recently."

Regina was momentarily at loss of words, partially disgusted by the werewolf's ability and partially unable to find an answer to her question. More than 8 hours had passed since Emma had come to her and she really didn't know how the woman's smell could still be detected by Ruby.

"My guess is that something's wrong with your sense of smell since those are not the cases."

"Regina, I swear, if you did something to her…"

At Ruby's threat, the same hot anger that had filled her body the night before when she had thought Emma's request had been a ploy to prove her still evil run through her veins.

Regina controlled her magic, vibrant under her skin and wanting to be wielded, and let her anger ignite her voice and words, "I believe Miss Lucas that if you're going around town looking for Emma right now, instead of serving awful coffee and tasteless food, is because our dear Snow White asked you to. Haven't you asked _her_ why Emma is missing?"

Few things in the world were as satisfying as making the blind trust that Snow's minions put into their leader shake and crumble, and so Regina took pleasure at seeing a spark of suspicion cloud Ruby's face.

"Go back to your work, Ruby. I'm taking care of Emma's disappearance," she stated with finality and with a last irritated look at the werewolf closed the door.

Regina went back into her studio and to the open file on her desk. Her eyes fell on a page of annotations written by Sydney. It was a list of things she had asked him to do to ensure she knew every movement and every single thing Emma was doing around her sleeping town back when the curse was unbroken. Among it, the voice 'successful installation of the GPS tracker on Emma Swan's car' caught her interest.

Regina had completely forgotten about it but she was sure that the system was still active. A few clicks on her phone and Regina could see Emma's car's exact position on a very detailed map.

Emma was still in Maine. In fact, she was just 3 miles out of Storybrooke. That meant that Emma hadn't driven straight to Boston as Regina had believed: something had stopped her.

With a heart lighter than it had ever been since she'd woke up that morning, Regina left her home and got into her car.

-0-

Regina hadn't driven past the town line since three years before, when she had gone to Portland with Henry for his birthday. Outside of Storybrooke, Regina felt vulnerable and impotent and being surrounded by strangers, who didn't acknowledge her existence (unless it was for money) or recognize her power, had always felt upsetting and never liberating as she had imagined.

In her little cursed town Regina had also had the security that came from knowing that magic was still a resource, even if extremely hard to get, even if at the expense of some sacrifice and very limited. Outside of Storybrooke there was absolutely no possibility to create it and that's why she had limited the number of trips with Henry out of town: she didn't like how exposed he was to dangers without having magic to turn to.

Now magic was running again in her veins: crossing the town line Regina felt like she was stripping down of her armour and still going into battle. She took great comfort in the fact that Emma was just a few miles away, and it was with relief that she welcomed the sight of the yellow Bug parked at the side of the road ten minutes later.

Regina stopped her car behind Emma's and got out. She walked to the Bug's driver door and looked inside. Seat slightly reclined, Emma was sleeping facing the window in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. The urge to see Emma's eyes and what she could find in them made Regina tap loudly on the glass.

Emma woke with a start, alarmed eyes opening and meeting hers. Regina stepped back and waited for the sheriff to exit the car. A moment later Emma was standing in front of her, a little uncertain on her feet and grimacing at the light of day. The faint smell of whiskey coming from her only confirmed the fact that she had drunk before falling asleep.

"Regina." Emma's voice was dry and raspy.

"Wait a second."

Regina went back to her car to retrieve a small bottle of water from her bag; she then offered it to Emma who took it with a murmured thanks and drank half of its content.

When their eyes met again, Regina could see a new clarity in the woman's gaze. Emma looked worn-out, heart-broken and lost, but the haunted desperation of the night before seemed far away.

Emma was okay and in front of her and Regina was torn between wanting to hug the woman tight to her body in relief and slap her hard across her face for the worry she'd caused. She quenched both needs but couldn't stop her hand from reaching out and cupping Emma's cheek, feeling her real and safe and warm under her fingers.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"No, I'm not."

Emma's honesty shook her soul.

She was about to ask what had happened last night when Emma took her hand and brought it to her own lips. The small and gentle kiss on her knuckles took Regina's breath away.

"But now you're here," Emma stated and looked at her with reverence and gratefulness, and like she could fix everything that was wrong or like that didn't matter at all.

Regina could feel Emma's gaze touching her soul. The inebriating intensity of the moment reminded her of the night before, and for a second Regina worried that Emma was going to ask her something unreasonable again.

But when Emma spoke again, it was for a request almost childlike in its simplicity. "Can we please wait a bit more before going back to Storybrooke?"

And Regina – who had been ready to have to convince and force Emma to go back – conceded, relieved, "Sure..."

With a small smile and a squeeze of her hand, Emma moved to the car behind her and sat on the hood. On every other occasion, Regina would have protested against the crime committed against her beloved Benz but she was still flustered by the power behind the moment that she didn't say anything at all. Instead, she found herself joining Emma.

The cold of the metal seeped immediately through the rich fabric of her pants, contrasting with the warmth in her heart. As she tightened her jacket around her, Emma started to speak.

"I really didn't expect you to come and get me," she said, in a way that made it clear that she had hoped for it. "Did you know where I was before leaving Storybrooke?"

"Yes, I did." Regina wasn't going to explain how she knew that and she hoped that Emma wasn't going to ask.

Emma simply nodded and then gestured at her car and at the open fields at the sides of the road. "Last night I got stuck here. I had every intention to keep going until I was in Boston but I couldn't drive another mile, another _inch_, away from Storybrooke…" Emma said, giving confirmation to what Regina had suspected. "I couldn't imagine leaving Henry behind, going back to my Boston apartment and to the life I had before. I hate Storybrooke and its craziness most of the time but that's where Henry…and _you_ are…and I want to be where you are…"

Emma's words, the sentiment and the firmness behind them brought tears to her eyes. In the past few months, Emma's drunken kiss, genuine smiles, and gentle looks, had made Regina very aware of Emma's attraction and affection to her, as well as her own, but Emma had never expressed before how important she was to her. Now, Emma had voiced the closest thing to a love confession there could be between them at that moment in time, and Regina – heart spilling with emotions – answered in accordance, "I'm really happy you stopped here…"

Emma then covered Regina's hand with her own and slowly caressed the skin with her thumb. Hair in the wind, open fields around her and a warm and gentle hand on top of her own, Regina felt like she was 18 again, carefree, good-hearted and believing in true love as she'd been so many years before, when Daniel had been at her side.

In that moment letting herself fall for Emma felt like a beautiful inevitability.

They stay in silence for a while, enjoying each other's presence with a new depth and savouring the possible developments of their relationship, as they held hands and stared at the small grey clouds chasing each other above their heads.

With reluctance, Regina finally broke the silence: before going back to Storybrooke she really wanted to know what had brought Emma first on her doorstep and then out of town.

"Can I ask you what happened last night?"

Emma slid off the hood of the car and Regina could see the woman closing off and tensing up. Still, she pushed. "I know your parents are somehow involved…"

For a moment the only answer Regina got was the tightening of Emma's jaws and the crushing of plastic as the sheriff squeezed the bottle in her hand. But then Emma run her hand through her hair and said, "Snow…she…she is pregnant."

And there it was the reason why Emma had been so desperate she'd wished to stop feeling and go back to her old life.

And as the annoying image of a happy Snow, her Prince Charming and a cute little baby formed in her mind, Regina understood Emma's sorrow. The woman was probably reliving all the times of her childhood when foster parents had rejected her in favour of another baby; she was probably feeling betrayed, put aside and forgotten as too many times before. And Regina was sure that Emma – good-hearted Emma – was berating herself for the hurt and the bitterness she was feeling, when the occasion called for joy and celebration and general happiness for her parents.

Regina's heart broke for Emma.

Before she could offer a few words of understanding and comfort, Emma spoke again.

"Tell me, Regina, how can I stand watching them being the doting and loving parents when that is everything I missed?"

The guilt and the shame for her actions had never felt more sharp and consuming. Her curse had condemned the people of her land to relive the same day for 28 years in a new and for many aspects better world: they barely had anything to hate her for. But Emma, the innocent daughter of her enemy, had been the only one to truly pay for Regina's mistakes.

Regina moved to stand in front of the sheriff. "I'm at fault for that, Emma. And I'm really very sorry." She knew her words were useless: they weren't going to magically repair the hurt she had inadvertently caused to Emma. Still, she'd needed to express her deep regret, hoping that Emma could one day forgive her.

But Emma shook her head and with a sad smile said, "No, Regina...It's not your fault. You weren't the one putting me in the wardrobe, you weren't the one who had all the curse figured out, you weren't the shitty foster families who gave me up…"

Regina shamefully found comfort in the heartbreaking words. Knowing that Emma wasn't blaming her was liberating, but at the same time disturbing: she didn't want Emma to erase her role in the story. And the idea that Emma might be doing that to avoid tainting her own feelings for her made her sick.

"I still had my part in it, and you can't ignore it."

"You were just a pawn in Rumplestiltskin's plan. You enacted the curse because he needed you to."

"I enacted the curse because I wanted your mother to be miserable!"

"Yeah, my mother, not me. And I don't care!" Emma stated with irritation. "The problem, Regina, is that my parents thought it was a good idea to leave their newborn daughter to grow up alone in a world they had no idea how it was, and just to fulfill a prophecy, when I could have been with them!"

Emma's anger at her parents was so raw and deep and Regina was taken aback by its force.

"You wouldn't have done that, Regina," Emma added. "You would have kept your daughter with you, found a different solution, fought to be with her. Snow didn't."

Regina had never put herself in Snow's shoes before but what Emma was saying was the truth: she wouldn't have let go so easily of a piece of her heart and she certainly wouldn't have let her daughter carry the weight of her mission as Savior alone. The fact that Emma so strongly and rightfully believed that her actions would've been different made her heart swell with affection for the woman.

Emma sighed deeply and leaned deflated against the car. "You know, one night soon after I broke the curse, Marco and the Blue Fairy came to us. They confessed that they had tricked Snow to have August come with me in this world right before the curse, taking what could have been her place."

It was something Regina hadn't known about and it made her blood boil to think how the Blue Fairy had allowed that to happen.

"Snow was heartbroken a moment and completely understanding the next. She said it was only natural for Marco to have demanded for Pinocchio to go through the wardrobe, considering that he might have died," Emma explained. "And I agree, and I understand Marco's reasons too. But God, Snow didn't even get angry. She didn't even yell at him or at Blue. It was like they'd only taken a worthless object from her, and not 28 years of life with her daughter. And the worst part is that, whenever Snow looks at me, I know she can only see those years of my life she has missed."

Regina moved closer to Emma and with her thumb wiped away the lonely tear fallen from the woman's eye. In that moment she swore that she was going to do everything in her power so that Emma wouldn't shed another tear, if not for joy.

"Snow loves you," she finally said. Because even if what Emma was saying and what she was feeling was legitimate, the most important thing was that her mother – even if not in the way she wanted – loved her very much.

"I know, I know…I just..." Emma stopped, shook her head and said, "I know. And that's all that should matter."

Then Emma was moving away from Regina's car. "I guess it's time we go back, uh?"

"Only if you're ready."

The sheriff nodded and with the first real smile of the morning asked, "Can I invite myself over for lunch?"

Regina would have insisted herself to have Emma coming with her to the mansion and so easily offered her consent.

Before moving towards her Bug, Emma fixed her gaze on Regina and said, "I'm really happy you're the mother of my son. Henry deserves to be loved as fiercely as you love him."

Then Emma was in her car, while Regina stood momentarily frozen, her chest growing warm as if a beam of sunlight had entered her heart and pierced through its darkness.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked this second chapter! And again, I apologize for any mistakes.

Thank you so much to the readers who favourited and followed the first chapter. A special thank you goes to those who were so very kind to leave a review.

Until next time!


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